"Spot? Hey, Spot? Hey...Spot...? Spot? Spot! Spot!" The little girl trailing after him had a high-pitched voice that would annoy even a saint, and Max Conlon was so far from being a saint, it wasn't funny. The six year old had been putting up with his hoard of little sisters since they started popping up, Melinda only a year and a half after he'd been born, Susannah a year after Mel, and the twins two years after Susie. Now there was a fifth baby girl at home, and getting away from his house was a primary focus most days. But it was nearly impossible with Mel tagging along.

"Mel, go home. Mama'll be wondering where you are, and I don't feel like dealin with you." He tried to brush her off, giving her the darkest look he could, but she ignored him, and continued to follow him, grabbing a hold of the back of his vest to keep up as he tried to walk through the crowd faster. At least she was behind him, and he wasn't being subjected to her wide, blue eyes, which she already knew how to use with deadly effect.

"Spot! Please, please, please, lemme come with you! Please, I wanna come with you. Where are you going? What are you doing? Are you going to buy some papes to sell? Are you? Are you? I wanna come too! Please!" Mel continued to tug on his vest, until she tripped on a broken flagstone, and fell against him, and then to her knees, crying out, letting go of him to catch herself on the ground.

Spot had half a mind to leave her behind and run while she was distracted, but the fat tears rolling down her cheeks gave him pause. Sighing, he turned and knelt down next to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright, Mel?"

She shifted until she plopped down on her bum, a little hard, tugging her skirt up to study her knee, jaw quivering as quickly as shoulders as she studied her bloodied knee. "Nooo...I wanna go home, Spot!" She dissolved into tears, clinging to his arm, tugging on his sleeve, her face buried against it, tears soaking through the fabric.

He sighed heavily as he helped her get to her feet- so much for escaping. "C'mon, Mel, I'll walk you home to mama. She'll wash you up and put a bandage on that knee."